


The Full Batty

by FictionalKnight (Northern_Star)



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-12
Updated: 2009-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:17:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Star/pseuds/FictionalKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce gets a eyeful when he spends an evening at a strip club...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Full Batty

**Author's Note:**

> This sorta-kinda fits a couple of prompts from the kink meme (including one of my own *lol*) but it didn't fit them closely enough, imho, so I'm posting this here instead. Also, not beta'd and it's 2:30 in the morning, so... I'm sorry for any and all brain fades.

Bruce entered the club and immediately rolled his eyes upon realizing just what sort of a place he'd walked into. When his "associates" had suggested that they chat over drinks at a club, it hadn't occurred to him that they might possibly be taking him to a strip club. A _gay_ strip club... Obviously, he should have researched Metropolis' seedy watering holes a little better.

Shrugging, he followed the two men he was with as they were being showed to a table in a more private section of the club. There wasn't much he could do about it now, anyway - he needed whatever information they were ready to offer in order to be able to continue his investigation. Besides, it wasn't as though this was going to hurt his playboy reputation - he wasn't Bruce Wayne tonight, he was someone else. His only real problem with the location of this meeting was that the show might prove to be a distraction - though not for himself particularly - and he might end up stuck here longer than he had planned to be.

For a while they sat, drank watered-down draft beer, and exchanged small talk over the loud dance music that was booming out of a dozen large speakers throughout the club. And, for a while, it seemed to Bruce like this was just a giant waste of his time...

Then, all of a sudden, the announcer's voice came over the speakers, asking customers to please give a big round of applause for _Batman_.

Bruce frowned, amused, and turned to have a look. The curtains opened and out came a dancer, riding a zip-line from the far end of the stage to the front, dressed in a cheap imitation of the Dark Knight's suit. The man landed gracefully, then, as the crowd hooted and hollered their appreciation, he leapt and grabbed a horizontal bar overhead. A quick flip later and he was hanging by his feet, cape spread wide open, and the audience applauded even more. Over the next few minutes, _Batman_ put on a show of acrobatics and dance moves, slowly shedding every piece of his Batsuit, but keeping the cowl on.

It was obvious that the crowd enjoyed this specific act more than any of the previous ones, and, curious, Bruce kept watching through the entire thing. Whoever this man was, he'd probably spent a long time developing his act and perfecting his moves. He wasn't nearly fit enough to pass for the true Dark Knight, but he had potential, Bruce thought. More than anything, though, Bruce was amused by the fact that the dancer had pushed his obsession far enough to have a large stylized bat-symbol tattooed on the small of his back.

The song ended, the dancer did one last backflip, landing on his knees and sliding to the very front of the stage as the audience erupted in a frenzy of applauds. When he got back up, _Batman_ pulled the cowl off his head and--

Bruce nearly choked on his beer.

Eyes wide, his mind a whirl, Bruce watched as _Clark Kent_ bowed to the crowd.

 _Clark_.

Posing as a _stripper_.

Dressed as _Batman_.

Or rather, dressed in nothing but a skimpy black thong and picking up the remains of the Batman suit he had taken off. _Stripped off_.

"He's somethin', ain't he?" said one of the men Bruce was sitting with.

Bruce nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from Clark. The realization that _Superman_ had a _bat_ -symbol for a tattoo, its bottom point disappearing right between well-sculpted buttocks, made Bruce's head spin and raw heat start coursing through his veins.

He was faintly aware that his two companions were chuckling, but he didn't look back to them before the curtains had once again closed around the stage area. When Bruce did turn his attention to them again, he realized that there was only one man left sitting there with him. He'd somehow managed to miss the fact that one of the two men had left their table. Like an amateur, he'd just lost an informant - and an important one at that.

Bruce groaned, mumbling a curse between his teeth, and he was about to get up and see if he could find his missing companion again, when the man suddenly reappeared in his field of vision and sat down with them again. Seconds later, a large hand landed on Bruce's shoulder, and his two associates chuckled some more.

When Bruce turned his head to look over his shoulder, he found himself staring straight into the bright blue eyes of the club's Batman wannabe.

Clark's eyes grew wide for a moment, and Bruce coughed in an attempt to hide his surprise and mild embarrassment.

"He's even better up close," said the elder of Bruce's companions, winking at him in a completely unsubtle fashion.

Bruce looked at the man and forced a smile on his lips, but when he saw the man slip Clark a twenty dollar bill, he suddenly understood what he'd meant. Bruce didn't think he could actually live through what was bound to happen next, and he looked back to Clark, eyes all but pleading for him to find a reason to leave - and the sooner, the better.

Clark leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "Working undercover, as you probably guessed."

"Undercover? Are you kidding me?" Bruce replied, snorting. "You aren't covered at all!"

"If it makes you feel any better, this is going to be awkward for me as well," Clark said, still whispering in Bruce's ear.

Clark pulled back just before Bruce could identify his choice of aftershave. Though, for the next couple of minutes, the possible composition of that aftershave was the only thought that kept Bruce's mind occupied as he desperately tried not to stare open-mouthed while _Superman_ gave him a strip-tease; tried not to stare at the strong muscles rippling under the perfectly smooth skin; tried not to stare as the Kryptonian turned and, hips swaying slowly to the music, waved his rear - and that damned tattoo - inches away from Bruce's face.

But when Clark turned around again and Bruce got a nice, close look at his privates, whatever part of the detective's brain that might still have been able to analyze chemical compositions shut down abruptly and his blood went rushing down from his head to his groin. He swallowed, eyes wide, heart now thundering in his chest.

But then, suddenly, the song was over. Clark was pulling his pants back up. Bruce's only rational thought was that they hadn't let the song play all the way to the end, and that he'd have to see a manager about that.

Before he knew it, Clark was leaning close to his ear again, saying, "Please don't blow my cover..."

Head spinning from the scent of Clark's aftershave, the warm caress of breath on his cheek, the soft baritone, Bruce chuckled lightly and replied, "It's not your cover I'm thinking about blowing."

Clark moved away just enough to see the wild, lustful glint in Bruce's eyes. "I had no idea you felt this way," he said, leaning in again.

"And how do _you_ feel?" Bruce blurted out.

"Like I want to show you my dressing room," Clark told him, and he ran the tip of his nose along the curve of Bruce's ear. "And you can find out for yourself exactly how I feel..."

Breathlessly, Bruce replied, "I'll be there in ten minutes." Then, smiling almost wickedly, he added, "Wear the Bat suit..."

=> End.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [You Can Leave Your Cowl On](https://archiveofourown.org/works/702495) by [glymr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr)




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